


just a kiss

by regal_roni



Category: NCIS
Genre: Emotions, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24302947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regal_roni/pseuds/regal_roni
Summary: Kissing the best friend you’ve been pining after forever probably isn’t the best idea you’ve had, but you do it anyway. It’s the alcohol’s fault...
Relationships: Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	just a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I totally wrote this isn’t of working on TCOU. oof. Started this like 2 months ago then proceeded to delete half of it and rewrite it. I think it works? As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated:) Enjoy!

You know it’s a bad idea before you even do it.

But you’re both bordering on drunk, and she’s been touching you all evening, hands and shoulder brushing against yours sending prickles of heat through your body. It’s like she’s finding any reason to make contact as her fingers dance across your arms sending shivers down your spine. She’s got an adorably excited grin on her face when she turns back around, and your breath catches as your stomach fills with butterflies. And when she comes closer, to pass you the darts, fingers lingering, a smirk on her face as her eyes dance with challenge, you just react.

Your hand locks in hers, giving her a small tug towards you. A soft gasp escapes her lips. She’s so close you can see the light dancing through her chocolate brown eyes as her perfume surrounds you. It’s not overpowering, it’s intoxicating. The smell is familiar and makes a warmth settle in your lower belly. Her eyes flutter over your face and yours fall to her lips. 

You know it’s a bad idea, that you should step away, end the evening, and go home. This had the capability to ruin everything but your brain is fuzzy from the alcohol and when her tongue sweeps out to moisten her lips you can’t seem to remember the reasons anymore because you want _this_ , want _her_. 

_Oh, how much you want her..._

You tentatively brush your lips against hers, soft but sure before pulling back slightly to gauge her reaction. Jack doesn’t let you get far though, her hands leaving yours to move to the nape of your neck, pulling you back to her. She kisses you hard, and you throw the darts you have in your hand to the floor as your arms snake around her waist and pull her into you. The kiss heats up, hot hungry kisses which are escalated with the swipe of Jack’s tongue against your bottom lip. She tastes like whiskey and sugar and you’re hooked. Jack groans into your mouth, her hand moving to grip your hair as you both stumble backwards.

You separate from her lips long enough to fall to the couch and for her to straddle your thighs. Her skirt rides up at the action and your fingers grip the exposed skin as you urge her closer. Your lips find their way to her neck. She tips her head back granting you better access to leave a trail of open mouth kisses from the base of her neck up to her earlobe where your teeth nibble and tug. “Y/N.” Jack moans. The sound was going to be etched into your memory forever. You growl, your lips going back to her neck and you bask in the feeling of being able to pull moans from her throat as you learn which places to nip and kiss to earn the strongest responses. Her hips ground down into you, a groan escapes your throat and she draws you back to her mouth as your fingers make their way to her shirt, tugging at the buttons to get access to her chest. 

You both freeze at the knock at the door. Jack’s off your lap instantly, tugging her skirt down and re-buttoning her shirt in the progress. “Who is it?” She shouts, her breathing’s still ragged as she makes her way towards her closed office door. Your brain is hazy, still trying to catch up with the sudden change in the situation, but you manage to get yourself together enough to tame your messy hair that moments before had had Jack’s hands in.

“Agent Parker.” 

Jack opens her office door, only far enough to stick her head out. She speaks to the agent for a few minutes before closing the door with a click that rings out loudly into the silence of the room. Jack hadn’t met your eyes since she’d removed herself from your lap and instead of looking at you now, she made her way to her desk focusing on the file Parker had just handed her. The silence in the room was deafening and dread starts to settle in your stomach.

You stand from the couch hesitantly making your way over to her desk. “Jack?” Your voice is scratchy when you speak.

“We shouldn’t have-It was a mistake.” She only spares you a glance before her eyes are back on the file, but her voice is firm. Her aloofness felt like a stab to the heart. You try not to let it show on your face, but tears were beginning to build behind your eyes. 

“A mistake?” Jack finally looks at you, her eyes that were usually so expressive gave away nothing of what she was feeling. Her back was rigid, tension radiating off her in waves as she holds her arms tightly across her chest, the file still hanging in one hand. It hurts. You want to rewind a few hours, refuse the drink Jack had offered and go home. 

“We’ve both been drinking. We’re friends, co-workers, that’s it.” 

“Bullshit.” You don’t know if it’s the alcohol coursing through you or your anger that gives you the confidence to say it, but she couldn’t kiss you like that and then pretend it doesn’t mean anything. It meant _everything_. Jack rears back, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, _Bull. Shit!_ ” You’re moving before you can think it through too much, rounding her desk to stand in front of her. Jack doesn’t do anything but stare at you as you move into her personal space. 

Your eyes search hers, looking for anything to indicate she felt something, to prove she felt what was between the two of you but there’s nothing there. Just cold, detached eyes that have your confidence fading away. Maybe she was drunker than you thought? She really didn’t feel any of the things you did. Your hand hovers by her face, wanting desperately to touch but instead you pull away tightening your hand into a fist by your side to hide how it was shaking. You step away averting your gaze. “Sorry, I thought…I guess it doesn’t matter.” You move away, going to the chair you’d dropped your bag onto earlier. 

“Y/N,” Her voice is soft, but you can’t get yourself to turn back around and look at her, instead you slip your bag on to your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jack.” You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping she doesn’t notice your raspy voice as you try to control your spiralling emotions. You don’t look back at her as you walk out her office, shoulders squared in an effort to not let her know you were seconds away from falling apart. You slam the door shut behind you, the sound ringing loudly through her office and down the corridor. 

Your fingers ghost your lip as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut and try to banish away the feelings of Jack’s lips on yours. You quickly wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape. Ignoring the growing ache in your chest as you make your way out of NCIS and into a taxi. Despite the alcohol still in your system, you’d never felt so sober, any buzz you’d felt long gone and replaced with heartache and disappointment.

\----

The next morning you select every piece of your outfit like a suit of armour. Black skinny jeans that hug your ass tightly, a white button-down shirt, an oversized dark green blazer, and black boots. You felt powerful. You spent extra time on your makeup, making sure to cover up the dark circles from your restless night and fix your hair into its usual fashion. Despite the ache in your heart, you radiate confidence when you arrive at work, coffee cup in hand and determination in your eyes.

You’re the first one in the office. You get out a cold case file you’d been wanting to check out and set to work, flicking through the crime scene photos as you jot down notes of your own. Anytime the thought of Jack tries to distract you you bat it away, gripping the pen in your hand tighter as you try to regain focus. It’s a dead Chief Petty Officer case from 10 years ago, any leads had gone cold within the year and the agent in charge of the case had retired nearly 8 years ago now. The Petty Officer had been found in his apartment. Your eyes scan every inch of the photo as you take note of the blood splatter, of the placement of objects, of the spray of blood across the beach portrait on the wall.

Jack. Images of the stories she’s told you about her surfing come to mind and before you can stop it you are spiralling. Jack’s mouth, the taste of her, the glorious moans you’d pulled from her, the feel of her skin beneath your lips, her cold eyes, ‘It was a mistake.’ The ding of the elevator breaks you from your thoughts and just as you look up Jack’s stepping out into the bullpen, her step faltering when she notices you. She looks at you and then in the direction of her office, her uncertainty is clear, but it only takes her a couple of seconds to make up her mind and then she’s heading towards your desk.

“Hey, can we talk?” Jack’s hands tighten on the handle of her bag, a hesitant smile on her face. She’s wearing a high neck shirt, despite the warming weather, and your mind flashes back to your teeth scraping against her throat the night before and you can’t help but wonder, and hope, if you left marks. 

You’d been up half the night going over everything that had happened, examining each detail and trying to work out how you’d gotten it so wrong because, yes, the alcohol had a huge part in your confidence to kiss her, but you’d generally thought that there was something between the two of you and that was only heightened by the way she kissed you back. But then you remember her cold eyes afterwards, that she didn’t falter when she held your gaze and as much as you wanted to believe she was lying you couldn’t think of a reason why she would. 

Her friendship was too important to you, despite your feelings Jack was your friend, and you’d rather have her like that, then not have her at all. So, when you speak, what you tell her isn’t exactly a lie but it’s the most dishonest you’ve ever been with her and it hurts. “Yeah, I actually wanted to apologise for last night. You were right, we’d both had too much to drink.” You don’t notice the disappointment flashing through her eyes as you talk, too focused on trying to get through what you were saying and make it believable. 

“Right. A mistake.” Jack’s voice sounds odd but before you can question it’s she’s talking again. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay. That this isn’t going to make things awkward between us.” 

“It was just a kiss.” Your eyes fall to her lips and you quickly avert your gaze as you try not to think of all the reasons it wasn’t _just a kiss_. “We’re good.” You smile and Jack seems to relax.

“Okay, good.” She moves closer, walking behind your desk so she can see the file you’d been working on, the conversation dropped. “Cold case?”

“Yeah. Petty Officer found stabbed in his home, 10 years ago.” You feel lightheaded, Jack’s moved to lean down next to you, the smell of her perfume surrounding you. Your eyes stay trained on the case file and not on the sensation of Jack’s hand resting on the back of your chair, her arm hovering centimetres away from your back. 

“Any suspects?” 

“They suspected the girlfriend for a while, her alibi was weak but there wasn’t enough evidence to charge her.” You sigh. Jack pulls back slightly, her hand leaving the back of your chair. You take that as a sign it’s safe to turn to her which is a mistake because she’s a lot closer than expected, a warm smile on her face that quickens your heart rate. 

Jack’s eyes flitter over your face, her eyes momentarily darting to your lips. Your brows furrow as you watch the conflict dance through Jack’s eyes. Maybe you weren’t wrong? Maybe she did like you. She’s pulling away before you can do anything, not meeting your eyes as she clears her throat. “Right, well good luck with the profile. I should get to work.” She chances a glance at you, a tight-lipped smile on her face before she turns and basically runs for her office. 

The hope returns that maybe it wasn’t just a drunken mistake. You try to squish the feeling, not get your hopes up because it usually only ends in disaster, but it’s too late. You sigh, shaking your head and draining the remainder of the coffee before blindly chucking it in the bin behind you and returning your focus on the case report. It wasn’t time to think about it now.

\----

Rubbing the knot out of your shoulder, you make your way back to the bullpen. The day was finally coming to a close, having just finished interrogating a suspect who confessed to the brutal murder of a seaman. All you needed to do was type up your report and then you could escape home and order takeout, probably pizza because you’ll be too lazy to cook and finally catch up on the tv shows you were behind on.

You halt in your tracks, eyes narrowing when you notice a woman you don’t recognise sitting at your desk. Torres is perched next to her flirting and even from only seeing the back of her head you could see she wasn’t interested. You look to Tim in question. “Metro.” He mouths and your confusion only grows, why was a Metro Cop sitting at your desk? 

You clear your throat drawing the attention of Torres and the mystery woman, who just turns around in your chair, a smug smile on her face that only makes your annoyance grow. “Can I help you?” 

Torres leaves your desk, heading over to Ellie’s (because god forbid he sat at his own desk) and the woman stands, sauntering over despite you only being a couple of steps away. “Detective Rachel Gartland. Metro PD.” You shake the extended hand. 

“Ok?” You don’t bother to offer your name; she obviously knows who you are if she was sitting at your desk. 

“You inquired after one of my cases. I want to know why.” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes at the arrogance in her voice. Instead of offering an immediate answer you walk past her and sit down. 

“And this couldn’t be done over the phone, or through email, why?” Gartland just smirks, moving to perch herself where Torres had before, apparently personal space be damned. You don’t bother to stop your eye roll this time. “Which case?” 

“Issac Schmidt. Victim of a burglary gone wrong.” 

“Oh, I thought it might relate to a cold case I’m looking into.” You raise a brow. “So, the case file?” 

“I want in. This is my case.” 

“ _Was_ your case. You couldn’t solve it.” Anger flitters across Garland’s face and you smirk smugly at her. She pushes herself off your desk, one hand coming to rest on the arm of your chair and the other on your desk, trapping you. Your brows shoot up in shock and you bite your lip lightly as the woman smirks challengingly. “How about I contact you if I find anything.”

“That’s not good enough.” 

“That’s all you’re getting.” Gartland’s eyes darken, momentarily darting to your lips. You see a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. Jack’s standing by Tim’s desk lips pressed tightly into a thin line as she glares daggers at Gartland. You arch your brow in challenge as Jack’s gaze turns to you.

Gartland notices your staring match. “Think your girlfriend is jealous.” She whispers into your ear. Jack’s eyes flash, head ducking as she quickly turns and makes her way in the direction of the elevator. You don’t hesitate, removing Gartland's hand from your chair and slipping past her as you follow Jack, sliding into the elevator just before the doors close. 

Jack’s back is to you, head bowed. You whack the emergency stop button causing the elevator to jolt slightly and Jack stumbles backwards in surprise. Your hand flies to her hip, helping her to rebalance as she swings around to face you, eyes swarming with emotion and your breath catches. You pull her closer and she doesn’t resist. Her face is so close you can see the slight pink to her cheeks as her lashes flutter, gaze settling on your lips. “Jack.” You breathe quietly, scared to break whatever was happening. Jack meets your eyes showing you her building tears which were threatening to fall. You reach out, cupping her cheek and she momentarily leans into the touch, eyes falling shut before she pulls away, stepping around you to flick the switch and start the elevator up again, the lights flicker on and you release a sigh. “Jack, I want you but I'm not going to chase after you. You need to decide what you want because I’m here and I'm willing to take the risk, but I need you to do the same.” 

Jack doesn’t look at you, just makes her way off the elevator, ignoring the looks from the team as she walks away. Gartland’s still by your desk. “So, a joint case?” She asks, smirking as you make your way over. You yank open your desk drawer, pulling the case file out and shove it into her hands.

“It’s your case.” Gartland’s mouth opens in shock, all her smug humour disappearing. You return to your chair, turning back to the computer. 

“But-” 

“I’m not fighting for jurisdiction. I don’t care. You want it, you take it.” A headache was beginning to build behind your eyes. Gartland’s eyes flick from you to the rest of the team who are all watching the exchange. She opens her bag, pulling out her own case file and placing it and the one you’d handed her back on your desk. Your lips twitch.

“I have too many open cases anyway.” She says in a way of explanation, pushing herself off your desk she nods her head in Gibbs’ direction and makes her way to the elevator. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. Everyone’s eyes are trained on you and you look up, eyes flicking over everyone, brow arched. “Yes?” 

“You ok?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah.” 

“And is Jack ok?” You swallow roughly, trying to hide your reaction as your eyes flick back to the computer. 

“You’ll have to ask her.” Everyone’s still watching you. “Anything else? Or have you guys got nothing better to do than stare at me?” Nick returns to his desk while Ellie and Tim focus back on their computers. You can still feel Gibbs’ eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything just gets up and heads in the direction of Jack’s office. 

He still hasn’t returned 20 minutes later when you finish typing up your report and you don’t hang around to see if he does, just print out the report, place it on his desk and pack your bag. “See you all tomorrow.” The others all say goodbye, shooting looks between each other and towards you as you leave.

\----

“Y/N backdoor. Bishop and I will take the front.” You nod, drawing your gun and making your way through the side passage of the suspect’s house. Naval Officer Peter Carson’s body had been found floating in a lake, strangled to death by a cord. The team’s investigation had led you to a civilian named Tim Drewger who had owed Carson a lot of money due to gambling debts. The theory was that instead of paying those debts he’d resulted too killing the man and stole a suitcase full of cash in the process.

You duck to avoid being seen through the windows, quietly opening the back door. You make your way down the short corridor, shoving open the door to the next room. Your gun is instantly whacked from your hands cluttering to the floor as Drewger grabs your wrist yanking you further into the room and in one swoop wraps a cord around your neck. You grab it with one hand desperately pulling at the cord as it slices your fingers and you struggle for breath. You reach for the knife strapped to your waist, plunging it into the man’s leg. His grip loosens on the cord as he screams, falling backwards and onto the kitchen floor. You turn around, still gasping for breath, your gun lies on the ground next to Drewger, he notices and before you can move, grabs it, turning the gun on you. You try to lunge out of the way but he’s too quick, shooting twice, first, hitting you in your vest, knocking the breath from your lungs as you fall against the wall and then again, you manage to roll out of the way, the bullet only grazing your upper arm. The kitchen door slams open, bullets from Bishop and Gibbs flying into Drewger and his body slumps lifelessly onto the floor. 

“Glad you could join.” You say, gasping between breaths as Gibbs and Ellie rush to your side. 

“You hit?” Gibbs’ eyes scan over your body, ignoring your attempt at humour. 

“Vest and arm.” When they see the arm is just a graze, they breathe a sigh of relief. Gibbs insists on taking you to the hospital while Ellie stays behind to secure the scene and wait for the others to arrive so they can bag all the evidence. They wrap temporary bandages around your hand and arm when you arrive, prodding your chest where the bullet had hit to check for broken ribs. It seems they’re just bruised but they wheel you off for an x-ray to be safe.

You’re fine, just heavily bruised. They take you back to an examination room tending properly to your cuts now they’re sure nothing’s broken and there’s no internal bleeding. You’re given an ice pack to hold to your ribs to help soothe the bruise. “You know you can head back to the office, I’m fine.” You roll your eyes at Gibbs, who’s sitting on a chair sipping coffee as he watches the doctor work. 

“I’m good.” He shrugs, taking another sip from his drink and you smirk but that’s quickly wiped from your face as you try to resist groaning when the doctor begins to peel off the bandage on your hand, dried blood tugging at your skin. The cord had cut into the 3 central fingers of your left hand, deep enough that stitches were required. You grumble when he tapes the fingers together, the next few weeks were going to be fun. He then moves to tend to the graze on your arm. You and the doctor both jump in surprise when the examination room door flies open and in comes Jack. She’s shaking, windswept hair and red cheeks as she takes deep breaths. 

Her eyes scan your body as she takes in your injuries. “Gibbs said you’d been shot.” 

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.” You glare at Gibbs. “Why didn’t you tell her it was just a scratch?”

“She didn’t exactly give me time to explain.” Gibbs huffs, standing up. He looks between you and Jack, who’s yet to take her eyes off you. “I’ll be outside.” The doctor finishes securing the bandage before leaving the room behind Gibbs. The door clicks shut, the only noise now in the room is Jack’s heavy breathing as she makes her way over to you. 

You don’t say anything, just watch her, dropping the icepack next to you as she moves to stand between your legs, eyes ghosting with tears. Her shaky hand comes to cup your cheek and you lean into the touch. “When Gibbs said you’d been shot…” Jack shakes her head, her voice catching as tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “I was so scared-” 

“Hey, look I’m fine. Come here.” You pull her into a hug, arms wrapped around her waist as Jack buries her head into your shoulder, her tears trickling into the crook of your neck, she’s pressed tightly against you and you swallow the pain that comes from the pressure on your bruises. “Just a couple of scratches,” Jack says something but it’s swallowed by the fabric of your shirt. “Hmm?” 

She pulls back slightly, her nose brushing the side of your face as she meets your eyes. Your breath catches, Jack’s mouth only a hairbreadth away from yours. Her eyes fall to your lips before meeting your curious gaze again. “I said...I don’t want to lie to myself anymore.”

“Then don’t.” 

Jack sighs, the breath blowing against your lips. “I’m not good at this Y/N.” 

“Jack…”

“Yeah?”

“Please just kiss me.” And with that, she closes the last bit of space between you capturing your lips softly, a complete contrast to your first kiss. Her hand moves to the nape of your neck urging you closer as you stroke her cheek, tears mingling together. Jack’s hand goes in search of yours, but you gasp in pain when her fingers brush against the bandage. 

She pulls away. “Shit. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. They’re just sensitive.” 

Jack softly palms your hand. “What happened?” 

You sniff chuckling, wiping away the tears that had stained your cheeks. “Oh, you know, the usual, he tried to strangle me with a wire and then shot me...twice. First in the vest and then the second just grazed my arm.” 

Jack’s face drops. “Can I?” She asks, signalling to your t-shirt. You nod and Jack gently peels up your shirt, a gasp escaping her lips when she sees the bruise, littered with red and purple splotches. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Her fingers lightly ghost the skin and you hiss at the contact. Jack raises a brow at you, emotions still dancing in her eyes. “Ok, so it’s a little bad. I’ll be fine though; good night’s rest and I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.” 

“You most definitely will not!” 

“I know no fieldwork, but I can sit at my desk.” 

“ _Or_ you can be sensible and take the rest of the week off to get better.” 

“What and spend every day alone and bored?” 

“Who said anything about being alone?” Jack smirks and a grin breaks out on your face. Jack leans closer again, nose brushing yours. “Think you could manage then?” You don’t respond, instead, capturing the blonde’s lips again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

You hum. “Guess I could.” 

“Let’s get you the paperwork to check out and then I’ll take you home.” 

“Sounds good.” You slowly push yourself off the table, careful as your feet land on the floor, the shift in pressure hurting. Jack’s watching you closely, ready to step in and help if you need it. She’s chewing her lip anxiously. “Jack, I promise I’m fine.” 

“I know, I know...Just one thing.” Jack moves closer to you again, her hand cupping your cheek. 

“Anything.” 

She captures your lip’s in a sweet kiss, your hand gripping her hip as you pull her closer. Jack pulls back, blowing out a shaky breath. “Better.”

A dorky grin spreads over your face as you look at Jack, taking in every inch of her face. You peck her lips, revelling in the fact you can do that now, and then link your uninjured hand with hers as you both make your way from the room feeling like the luckiest women in the world.


End file.
